Spread Your Wings and Prepare to Die
by Accidentally The Whole Fanfic
Summary: Phillip personally found it adorable that she requested so many butterfl-wait, what the actual crap was she DOING. Picture not mine. Utter crack. May cause cancer in everything.


Spread Your Wings and Prepare to Die

* * *

 _Got Wood for Me? - Eileen Sunderland._

Hmm.

 _Need Weed ASAP - Kamil Galvin._

Nah.

 _Let's Get Ready to Look SO GOOD! - Howard Pendleton._

 _Hell_ no.

 _Bug Catching! - Cheryl Kaufmann._

Aha.

Sighing in relief, Phillip Hawthorne plucked the cute little pink Post-It from the request board, eyebrow raised as he scanned the neat handwriting. Butterflies, as usual - because they were pretty, and she wanted to look nice for her brother. It brought a small smile to his face - for all of Cheryl's constant insistence that she was a mature young lady, she was still only eight years old. And things like this - as well as her worrisome, nigh-incestuous obsession with her older brother - really drove it home.

Chuckling, he waved to Rutger and Rose Townshend as they passed, arm-in-arm and enjoying the early April breeze, and tucked the little memo into the pocket of his white cut-offs, turning to stroll down the street. A few farmers from down the road passed him by, heading for Kamil's stall, and he spotted Eileen putting up her new shutters. In their wandering, his eyes finally caught sight of the familiar, bouncy blonde pigtails, and he blew a sharp whistle to catch Cheryl's attention.

"Huh?!" She spun around - nearly losing her balance in the process, and scattering a few of the wildflowers she'd been picking, though she didn't seem to care. She grinned and waved. "Oh, Phillip! Hi! Are you here to see Ash?"

Phillip waved it off with an easygoing laugh. "Nah, not right now - just passing by. Probably gonna hang out with him later, though. Got your note, my lady," he added with a wink, producing the little pink slip from his pocket and waving it between his index and middle fingers. Cheryl's face lit up more, and his grin widened. "More butterflies, huh? That's our little lepidopterist for you!"

Scrunching up her face in confusion at the needlessly big word - what kind of pretentious douche did he think _he_ was? - Cheryl gave a start and looked at her hands, then back at Phillip. She stuck her tongue out. "I'm not a leper, you... you fart face! That's so mean - I want someone _nicer_ to get my butterflies for me!"

Trying not to laugh even harder at the reaction, Phillip held his hands up in a placating manner, shaking his head. "Nooo, no, no - it's just a big, fancy word for a... a butterfly... scientist! People who study them, find all the pretty, new ones in all those bright colors."

"...That's a stupid word," Cheryl grumbled after a moment's pause. "Why don't they just say 'butterfly scientist,' then? Stupid old nerds. No wonder nobody wants to do sex at them."

"Yeah," Phillip agreed lightly, "they suck! Soooo..." Dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he crouched down and beckoned Cheryl over, looking around almost furtively - while a few folks still milled about, nobody seemed to be paying them much mind - except to shoot a little smile their way at the interaction, or to check out Phillip's butt. "What's the _real_ deal with all of these butterflies anyway, huh?" he asked when Cheryl finally came over, her wildflowers cruelly forgotten. "You've been asking for an awful lot of them lately..."

He didn't expect Cheryl's face to fall, or for the young girl to suddenly look down and twist at the skirt of her green-and-yellow polka dot sundress. "Umm... well, it's actually... kind of a secret," she responded reluctantly, shrugging at him, before giving a little nod. "A _top_ secret, too! A mission!"

"Aww, what kinda mission?" Phillip prodded, now genuinely curious. When Cheryl continued to hem and haw, he grinned teasingly, reaching to ruffle her hair - she giggled and swatted his hand away. "Hey now, I got all those butterflies for you, right? And I'll get this one, too! Think I've earned myself a spot at the top secret table, huh?"

Smoothing out her hair, Cheryl twisted up her mouth into a thoughtful pout, looking up and humming. "Hmm... weeeeell... you _did_ get all those other ones, yeah... so!" Index finger jabbed at him, she laid out her offer: "Yeah, so get me this next one, too! And then I'll tell you - but you _can't_ tell anyone else, okay?! Or I'll have to have you... ummm... ass-aspirated! You better promise!"

Phillip chortled and stuck his pinky out, watching the delighted little girl lock it with her own and shake. "Alright, alright, I promise - scout's honor! I'll get your butterfly as soon as possible, yeah?"

"You'd better!" Cheryl agreed, hands on her hips, and nodding firmly once more. When Phillip gave her the thumbs up and went on his way back to his ranch, she smirked and rubbed her hands together in an all-too-obviously-deviant display, and let out a low, unhinged giggle.

Thankfully, the people strolling about the streets wrote off the unhinged display as a cute little child playing pretend, and not an early sign of a budding psychopath.

* * *

Though his farm work, foraging, hanging out with his friends, and fulfilling requests over in Konohana had taken up the rest of that day for Phillip, he nonetheless met up with Cheryl the next morning, handing over the jar with the pissed-off Small White flapping around in it. "Here you are, kiddo! One Small White fresh from the mountainside, just as requested!"

With a happy little squeal, Cheryl snatched the jar from Phillip's hands, chirped her thanks with an absurdly broad grin, and fixed her wide-eyed gaze on the butterfly with another unbalanced giggle. "Alriiiiight! Heheheheheh..."

Phillip watched her for a moment, eyebrows raised, before clearing his throat and drawing her attention.

"What?" she uttered blankly, clutching the jar to her chest and frowning.

Rolling his eyes, Phillip gestured with his hands. "We had a deal...?"

It took Cheryl's mind a moment to process those words, and she suddenly blinked and snapped out of her daze. "Oh! Right! Okay-" Looking around the road, she saw nobody passing by, and gestured for Phillip to come in closer - just as he had yesterday, he squatted down and leaned in, a curious expression on his face. "Remember," Cheryl started, "you can't tell anyone, or else!"

"Right, right," Phillip agreed patiently, pursing his lips and nodding. "Ass-aspiration. Whatever the hell that is," he added under his breath. "So! What's the _real_ deal, kiddo?"

Looking around once again, Cheryl's face darkened slightly, and she dropped her voice: "Well... these are actually for Ash."

"Ash?" Phillip echoed, face screwed up in confusion. "I'm sure he'll think they're real pretty and all, but why...?"

"Lemme finish, lickbag!" Cheryl snapped, getting a shrug from the ginger farmer. "They're to _protect_ him!"

Protect him? Phillip tried to imagine it - it wasn't like butterflies had stingers, or were known to bite, or could carry switchblades, as badass as that would be. Still, if Cheryl wanted to play in her little make-believe world, who was he to say it was wrong? She was eight! Let her believe butterflies were acceptable bodyguards, if need be.

Finding that Cheryl seemed to have finally paused to grant him a chance to speak, he asked slowly: "Protect him from... what, exactly?"

"Bitches!" Cheryl hissed, eyes going wide and mad. When Phillip's own blue eyes widened in surprise at this, she went on, clutching the jar under one arm and pointing at him almost accusingly: "All those girls! You know, wicked city women who want to - to _vamp_ him! And even the girls around here can't be trusted - I see how Laney talks to him with that skanky smile, and gives him those sweets she makes! I bet she roofies them so she can make him get me pregnant and have him all to myself and name our baby 'John' or 'Maria' or something stupid like that! That - that _clit!"_

She was breathing heavily at the end of her rant, and Phillip simply blinked in silent shock at her words, thinking back to not even two hours ago...

 _"Oh, god, Phillip!" Ash panted, gripping the moaning redhead's bare hips and pounding into him even faster, their flesh slapping together loudly. He smacked Phillip's ass hard, drawing out a sharp, yet pleased cry. "Yeah, that's right, take it - oh, Jesus... Jesus Christ, Phillip, I'm gonna come...!"_

 _"Oh, yeah - do it, Ash, come inside me," Phillip gasped, knuckles white as he clutched for dear life onto the fence he was bent over, feeling the blond's fingers tangle in his sweaty, disheveled hair and give it a hard tug. "Oh, fuck yeah - harder, baby, harder! Fuck me, give it to me-"_

"...I think you mean 'cunt,'" Phillip finally corrected her back in the present, chuckling awkwardly and scratching at his pink, tingling cheek - he was silently glad he could easily write off the flush due to his sunburn, since Cheryl looked like she wanted to smash the jar in half and gut the nearest person with it. And the nearest person was him, unless the butterfly counted. Hell, it probably _did_ , to her crazy ass. "I mean," he went on, deciding not to bring himself any further into this than he really had to, "I'm _preeeeeetty_ sure you don't have anything to worry about, but if you're really _that_ worried, go talk to her before you get all nutso on her. I'm sure she'll understand."

He felt bad - and a bit cowardly - for rolling with it and deflecting the blame to Laney... yet somehow, he doubted that telling Cheryl that Ash was into guys both figuratively and literally would assuage the worries in her little yandere heart any. She'd probably tear Phillip's dick off and feed it to him. And she looked murderous enough as it was. Maybe he could ask Ayame to institutionalize her.

"No," she growled, holding the jar even tighter and shaking her head, "this is sooooo past talk! It's time for action - she'll be a warning to all those other whores! And besides, you went to all that trouble to help me out-"

"-Whoa, Whackadoodle, keep my name out of this," Phillip interrupted, holding his hands up.

"-Alright, alright! But, yeah - I'm so doing this!" Cheryl finished heatedly, watching as Phillip shrugged and got up from his crouching position with a pained wince. "...Are you okay?" she added, concern twisting her brow. "You're walking kinda funny, Phillip."

"Charlie horse," he lied promptly, stretching his long legs and grunting. "Leg cramped up. I'm good. You _sure_ you wanna go through with this plan of yours?" He almost wanted to watch and see just what in the hell she even had in mind.

" _Duh,_ Phillip, I'm not a _pussy_ ," Cheryl snapped, tossing her hair with a huff and preparing to march off. "Just you wait and see! Oh! I almost forgot!" Stopping, she whirled on the heels of her Mary Janes and dug something out of the front pocket of her skort, tossing it to him - a horse treat. "Here's your reward for helping me out! Thanks - I hope you'll help me out again sometime!"

Phillip stared blankly at the treat, sighing in disappointment. He didn't even _have_ a horse anymore - he was pretty sure Kana had horsenapped it, and was probably balls-deep in it right this second. "What a rip... don't count on it, Crazy-town." Grumbling under his breath, he shoved the treat into his jeans pocket and headed for the mountainside to forage for the day, brushing away his guilt over sending Cheryl after Laney. It was just a stupid butterfly! What could it even do to her?

* * *

Laney Pendleton swept her flowered, blonde braid over her shoulder and crouched down, opening the cabinet under the bathroom sink to rummage around - they _really_ needed to tidy up in here. Rolling her eyes as she brushed aside a bag full of a suspicious green substance, she pulled out the bright pink box and stood back up in satisfaction - then narrowed her green eyes in confusion when she caught sight of something behind her in the bathroom mirror.

"Well, how'd you get in here, lovely?" she asked the pretty little white butterfly, turning and reaching out a hand to touch it - she then gasped and drew back when it whipped out a switchblade roughly three times its size, somehow managing to flick it open casually.

"Hey, Laney!" it greeted in an eerily-pleasant and disturbingly-human voice, waving the blade in her terrified, flummoxed face. "Ya gettin' a _Tampon?_ "

* * *

"...Meh, I'm sure it's fine," Phillip said with a shrug, drawing a skeptical hum from Georgia Mason. It was later that day, and while neither of them had seen hide nor hair of Cheryl or Laney in a while, he just couldn't picture it being anything other than failed and awkward.

"I dunno... think her mama needs to sit her tushy down and have a nice, long talk with her," Georgia opined, lips pursed and arms folded as she leaned against the side of her house. "Girly's cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, sounds like! She'd fit right in over at Konohana, I tell ya, all ' _oniichaaan, oniichaaaan, omae o korosu, oniichaaaaan_ ~' like that!"

Phillip whistled at this. " _Wow._ I'm not even touching that one."

"Who's touching your what, now?" Ash asked as he strolled up to them, hands stuffed in his shorts pockets and nodding to the two in greeting - though he also threw a subtle wink Phillip's way.

Sharing an awkward, deer-in-headlights glance with Georgia first, Phillip cleared his throat and scratched his cheek, turning back to a now-exasperated Ash with an awkward chuckle. "Cheryl again, huh?" Ash sighed, groaning at Phillip's affirming nod.

"Sheesh...! I don't know how many times I have to ask her to cut it out with... with... I don't even _know_ what she's been up to this time! Hey, Laney!" he added brightly, nodding to the blonde girl as she strolled down the street, looking skittish - she stopped and gawped at him dumbly, mouth working to form words that wouldn't come, and he frowned. "Laney?" he asked slowly, turning and starting to walk toward her - she stood rooted to the spot, eyes getting wider and face going pale under the late afternoon sunlight. "Laney, is everything okay?"

Laney's gaze seemed to fixate on a spot just behind his shoulder for a moment, and she finally stammered out: "H-hey, guyyyys! Uhhh... I... just... well! I'm... I have to... go... have... my period! Yeah. Right now. That's all." She jabbed a finger off in the direction of the mountain, though her friends' baffled, revolted stares remained on her. "Up there. Alone. Really gotta just... let her rip! So! Umm. Bye!" With a jerky wave, she took off walking at a brisk pace, and the rest of the trio were too confused to even consider following her.

Finally shaking it off, Phillip turned back to the others. "...Well, she'll tell us what's going on when she's ready, huh? If not us, then Kam." He then shot a quick glance over at the florist's stall - Kamil was leaning against the side, bloodshot eyes looking off in a daze and a dreamy smile on his face.

"I dunno," Georgia muttered, rubbing her chin. "I ain't too keen on her bein' up there alone like that, way she was actin'. Think I'm gonna give her a sec to cool off and go follow her. Bet I can yank it outta her!"

"And I have a feeling _I_ might need to talk to Cheryl about this," Ash muttered darkly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Phillip rubbed his shoulder tenderly, and Ash sighed as Georgia said her goodbyes and headed off after her friend. "Think maybe I should tell her about us?"

Face scrunched up in thought, Phillip sucked on his teeth thoughtfully. "I dunno... I guess if it'll get her off of Laney's back? But maybe we can talk about it at my place, first, huh?" he added in a low voice, licking his lips and keeping a guiding hand on Ash's shoulder as they set off down the road, past the Kaufmanns' farm. He then slipped the hand into Ash's back pocket and pinched, making the blond jump and squeak. If Cheryl was going to kill him - or both of them - over the news, he'd rather go out with a bang. "I just need a little help planting some seeds, anyway, if you're up for it..."

Cheeks going rosy, Ash shot a coy grin up at him. "Sure thing... I might not be from Konohana, but I know it helps if you start by giving the field a nice, thorough plowing..."

Meanwhile, the little white butterfly that had been fluttering over Ash's shoulder the whole time made its own exit without drawing any further notice.

* * *

Later that night, a thoroughly-satisfied Phillip stretched and yawned, slipping out of bed and scratching lazily at his bare ass as he plodded to his kitchen to alleviate the loud grumbling of his stomach. As he threw the refrigerator door open and blinked blearily in the cone of pale yellow light that was thrown across him, he suddenly caught an odd sight from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Phillip!" the little white butterfly greeted - out came the bizarrely-large switchblade once more. _Click._ "Ya gettin' a _snack?"_

"...Huh," Phillip uttered eloquently, eyes fixed on the switchblade. "That answers _that_ question." Shaking off the surprise - no time for that right now, even if he could probably crush the stupid thing between his fingers - he smirked and crouched down, reaching under the fridge and coming back up to pump the large shotgun he'd procured. "Alrighty, then. Cheryl must've seen us together earlier or something, I guess," he mused - he and Ash had decided not to tell Cheryl anything _just_ yet, since they both were pretty attached to their dicks. He flashed a feral grin at his adversary, aiming the shotgun. "So! You wanna _dance_ , cocksucker?"

The butterfly made no mention of the irony of that statement, instead flapping above the roaring spray of pellets that flew beneath it and left a hole in the far wall, and diving for Phillip's throat with the blade. The shotgun swung in a wide arc, and the butterfly just missed being smacked into the ceiling. It hurled the switchblade towards Phillip's chest like a ninja star, only for it to get swiftly knocked away by the skillet the naked redhead was now wielding in his free hand.

"Oh my _god,_ " the butterfly suddenly groaned in disgust, dodging another spray of bullets as it noticed something peculiar - other than the fact that Phillip apparently seemed immune to recoil. Not that it had room to criticize impossible physics. "Do you have an _erection?!_ "

"Shut up!" Phillip grunted, face now burning with embarrassment as he swung the skillet a few times at the butterfly. "Do you know-" Swing, "-what adrenaline-" Swing, "-does to a guy?!" And another miss.

"I don't _have_ a penis, Einstein! How the hell would I know?!" the butterfly snapped back, distracted by the sight. For a guy who was fighting off an assassin, Phillip was _really_ hard. And hung. That explained Ash's odd gait earlier. "Wow, _Jesus Christ!_ You know," it said, dodging another blast from the shotgun, "you are one _sick_ so-"

It didn't get to finish as it was suddenly crushed beneath the skillet, which was ground against it a few times for good measure by a maniacally-laughing Phillip - who had finally dropped the gun and was swinging the skillet in both hands now. " _Hahahahahaha!_ Tactical woody! I win!" he crowed, tossing the skillet aside and pointing at the little, pasty white smear on his hardwood floor. "Suck it! Except, uhh, actually - don't, because that'd be really weird. I mean, not just the bestiality, but I think my boyfriend would be really pissed, too-"

"Phillip!"

Right on cue - as if Phillip had said Ash's name into a mirror three times - said boyfriend flung the door open and skidded in like Kosmo Kramer, clutching onto the now-wobbling coat rack for support. He was in his boxers, his hair was disheveled, and he looked frantic.

And Phillip only felt his erection get even worse at the sight, though he tried to ignore it in favor of wondering just _what_ Ash was doing here at this hour. They'd had two pretty good runs earlier that day - so maybe he was looking to come in threes?

"Hey, baby," Phillip said with a weary grin, standing up and letting the skillet drop to the floor. "What's up?" _Aside from me. Ha, nailed it!_

Ash opened his mouth to speak, before catching sight of his boyfriend's current state. His mouth hung open, and his eyes - now narrowed in slight confusion - darted between the smudge of dead butterfly on the floor, the skillet, and Phillip's raging boner just jutting out without a care in the world, as if offering its own greeting.

"...I... I... something," Ash stammered, trying to get his mind back on-track - it was urgent, he knew that much. Even he wouldn't bolt down to Phillip's farm like a madman at 11 o'clock at night to wake him for a quickie. Often. Though the sight of Phillip naked, extremely aroused, and looking rather roughed up was certainly making it difficult to concentrate. Hell, while he was standing there with his mouth hanging open anyway, he might as well just-

The rustle of grass behind him finally clicked the light on in his brain, and he turned and slammed the door shut with a squeak, while Phillip watched him in confusion. Wondering if maybe he _should_ have some clothes on for this particular occasion, he slipped on the briefs he'd discarded for bed earlier and looked up at the other farmer curiously. "Ash, babe, what's wrong?"

Ash simply shook his head and gestured to the front window, gulping hard.

Butterflies, filling the air like a threatening, multicolored nimbus cloud. They hovered in place patiently, armed with various weapons - different types of guns, knives, swords, a broken bottle or two, boards with nails in them, chainsaws, flails, your mom, nunchaku, pepper spray, chui, a Ford Pinto, a book belt, and a Samsung Galaxy Note S7 were among the many implements of pain and destruction on display.

And standing so calmly beneath them - hands folded before her, prim and proper, ladylike - was Cheryl, a wide grin on her face.

"I can wait allllllllll night, Phillip~!" she sang tauntingly, trailing into a chilling giggle. "See, I've been building... well, I guess it's kind of an army, huh? All those butterflies you've been getting me, and I've been having them get their friends and their little butterfly babies-"

"Caterpillars," Phillip corrected through the window.

"-Shut up! I've been getting allllll of them ready for an occasion juuuuust like this one! And the one you just killed in there-" How the hell did she even know about that already? "-lead me right here! Only silly, sweet, sexy Ash overheard me, and raced down here to warn you, didn't he? Because he's soooooo thoughtful! And he needs someone who can appreciate that - so I just need to tie up a loose end right now, if you'll come outside for me~!"

Unable to help himself, Phillip responded: "I already came outside twice earlier, thanks."

A series of groans rose up - from Cheryl, various butterflies, and (to Phillip's chagrin) Ash.

" _Really?"_ Ash muttered, face buried in his hand, while Phillip scoffed.

"Wow, _you're_ supportive..."

"Yeah, I _definitely_ want to kill you," Cheryl decided, checking her Hello Kitty watch and humming. "So! I can have these little guys storm your house, if you want, or... you can be a man and face your painful, gory death with dignity, Philly! Your choice!"

Gritting his teeth, Phillip sighed and picked up his discarded shotgun from the floor, stalking over to the closet to get the ammo out. Ash watched with wide, horrified eyes as the redhead loaded it up, giving it another pump. "Phillip, what the hell?! You can't, you'll-"

"They're just _butterflies,"_ Phillip snorted, rolling his eyes. Heavily-armed butterflies were still butterflies. He grinned down at the skillet, looking more confident than he actually felt. "I've got this, babe."

"Phillip-"

"-But, just in case..."

Caught off his guard, Ash was pulled into a deep, intense, hard kiss with more tongue than he'd ever realized could possibly be given in one's lifetime. He let out a dazed gasp and panted as Phillip finally pulled back, ruffling his hair.

"If I come back-"

"When," Ash corrected offhandedly.

"-Then we'll pick up where we left off, and hopefully we aren't sobbing and dancing and fucking vengefully over Cheryl's corpse," Phillip finished, rubbing Ash's cheek with his thumb, and bending down to pick up the skillet. "And if I don't..."

Ash shut his eyes and bit down on his lips, as if to seal the taste of Phillip in them forever. "Give them Hell, Phillip."

"Put the radio on," Phillip ordered gently, giving Ash a quick peck on the cheek before turning around, shotgun slung over his shoulder and skillet hanging at his side. "I don't want you hearing this." Ash nodded and rushed over to turn on Phillip's bedside radio, frantically spinning the dial to find something other than static, and Phillip's soft "I love you, Ash" was drowned out as he marched outside.

"...And my heart will go on, and oooooon..."

Slumping against the wall and letting a sob choke out, the last thing Ash heard from Phillip was a maniacal laugh, a scream of "YEAHHHHHH, YOU SONS OF BITCHES! COME GET SOME! _COME GET SOOOOOOME!",_ and a few loud blasts from the shotgun, before Céline Dion's own mighty roar overtook the carnage outside:

"YOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUU'RE! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE! THERE'S _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTHIIIIING I FEEEEEEAR! AND I KNOOOOOOOOW THAT MY HEART WILL GO OOOOOOOOOON!"_

And as Ash sang along in a tearful croak, as his mind raced with the myriad scenarios that could unfold from this event... all he could do was wait. And wonder why he was so goddamn _turned on_ right now.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** People used to ask me what kind of drugs I'm on. And the thing is? I'm not. This is all the work of a lucid man. Just imagine the sort of shit I'd write if I _were_ on drugs, though.

But seriously, using _butterflies_ to scare off girls? I wasn't aware Cheryl was trying to scare off Manny fucking Delgado. Also, yes, I watch _Archer._ How did you know? (And to think, I really don't give a shit about Ash in-game. His little yandere creep-show of a sister just lends itself to this sort of thing, though.)

Feel free to leave a review, if you'd like. Or just shoot a tranq dart into my neck to stop me before I do this sort of shit again. (I totally will.)


End file.
